Fix You
by bandchaos
Summary: Castiel Novak, a relatively new professor at Stanford University, somehow causes more trouble for himself when he meets Dean Winchester, seemingly new student in his first lecture of the year. Their one-time encounter evolves unintentionally and Castiel's life becomes far more complicated than he ever intended, and Dean treads down a road that he knows he'll never return from.
1. Prologue

Tentatively turning around in bed, a man sporting fairly short, dark brown hair that was tousled messily on his head from tossing in his sleep, groaned faintly upon realizing his bed was empty. The other side was ruffled and smelled horrible. His blue orbs trailed over the mess around the ground on that side of the room, and that told him enough about what had made his bed so empty this morning at least. A dull pain was aching through him as he rolled out of bed.

His sweatpants hung on his delicate frame, threatening to fall off of his hips with just the slightest provocation as he teetered around the bed, straightening out the sheets and tucking them in properly so it looked absolutely perfect when his hands went over the comforter to smooth it out. He trailed around the room picking up rumpled clothing and throwing it into the hamper before finding the cigarette butts in one of his nice teacups. He took the teacup to the kitchen with a frown, gently tapping it against the inside of the trashcan to get most of the bile out before taking it to the sink where he cleaned it as thoroughly as possible, before gently drying it off and placing it back up on top shelf of the cabinet.

After he'd cleaned up the dishes that had been left in the sink, he wandered back into his room to get dressed, glancing at the clock as he made it in the room. 6:43. His alarm still had another two minutes before it would go off, but he always woke before it anymore. If it weren't for his workouts in the summer, he wouldn't have gotten in the routine of waking so early and these 7:30 lectures would have hurt so much more than they did right now. Waking up after six had become sleeping in for him anymore, the man had grown accustomed to either going to bed earlier or running on less sleep in general.

After shimmying his sweatpants off and tossing them in a hamper he pulled on some slacks and a white button up, followed by a blue silk tie and tan colored trench coat. His briefcase with his laptop and other things was where he left it at his desk, so he could easily scoop it up and be on his way, which was exactly what he did after locking the door and traipsing out his apartment to the bus stop not too far outside the door.

It was only a five-minute ride on the bus to the station on campus, and it was now only fifteen after seven so after a short walk to the union he was in class with a good ten minutes to spare. Walking patiently through the influx of mostly eager students, he was able to make his way to the front of the classroom with enough time to pull out his laptop and log in to set up a PowerPoint to the projector before his watched chimed perkily at exactly 7:30.

"Well, welcome," he spoke somewhat powerfully into the room so they would all quiet down. "Surprised to see you all here so bright and early," a few audible groans came from somewhere in the middle of the room and his eyes scanned the classroom as he spoke. "Enrollment says 300, and since this auditorium only seats 315…" his eyes crossed the room again, "Well, you can all count the number of empty seats." He gave a quick roll of his eyes as he walked back behind the podium with his laptop and pulled out his glasses. There had been a few chuckles from his last comment, but it was pretty plain what he was saying. Not everyone had bothered to show on the first day and he didn't expect the numbers to increase. This was only his second year teaching full time at a University with large lectures like this, but he knew well enough to know that his most populated days would be test days, and even then the numbers would drop along with enrollment, except for finals with the idiots who never showed up for the other tests then popped in for the final because they failed to drop the class. He had never done that in school, but knew enough people that did that it never surprised him while he taught.

"As the slide says and as you hopefully know, this is essentially, Religion 1013, the emphasis in Jewish and Christian origins. Meaning that some of you here are Religious Studies Majors or Minors, then the rest of you are taking this either in lieu of Humanities or World Literature one." Another small chuckle, though that was the end of his occasional funny banter, really. "I'm Professor Castiel Novak and hopefully we'll be seeing one another three times a week this year, barring any vacation conflicts. And I'm sorry if I'm not exciting enough for you at 7:30 in the morning." Okay, maybe it wasn't, but did he really want to be there that early in the morning? No, but as a newer teacher he didn't get first dibs on his time slots. Between this time and 9:30 at night, he would prefer the morning.

He spent the 50-minute period running through a slideshow of what they would be covering in the course over the course of the semester, when the tests would be, his email, his office number, his office hours, the paper requirements, and last but not least, his TAs who sat enthusiastically in the front row. They were the only reason he agreed to teach the class with a paper. He wasn't about to read over 300 papers by himself. He went over the required book as well, emphasizing that he would in fact use it, and that was laid out in a PowerPoint and through the school's own little enrollment and grading website, and by the time he was done explaining everything, he was regretting skipping his morning coffee and bagel sandwich. His stomach was growling audibly and his eyelids felt heavy, so when he wrapped up the PowerPoint he logged out immediately.

"Well, that's all I've got for you today."

Most people had already packed up, and the rest were quick to follow suit. While Castiel was bent down, sliding his laptop back into his bag before standing upright again where the small hoard of suck ups stood. Well, not _all_ of them were suck ups, but the majority of them were. This would be inevitable with all of his classes, he internally groaned when he remembered that would happen for his next two classes today and his two classes tomorrow. He squared his shoulders back with a sigh when he stood upright and had to begin to address the students.

As his eyes ran over the dozen or so students, his eyes met with a few, but he focused on one in particular. His breath hitched, but the impossibly green eyes shifted away. While the first of the crowd began to introduce herself to Castiel, he heard her flirty tone and immediately began to zone out as she spoke. His eyes wandered to the owner of the wonderfully green eyes to find a young man, probably just a couple years younger than Castiel, chatting up what he supposed was an attractive young woman (obviously a Freshman by the way she had dressed up for a 7:30 class), with a coy smile on his face from what Castiel could barely see with his skewed side view.

The girl before him was on his way and slowly but surely the line filtered down until no one was left in the auditorium, except for Castiel. The green-eyed man had left awhile back. Castiel heaved a heavy sigh. Of course he had to just be flirting with that girl. One of the perks of the job for Castiel was that from time to time he did get the occasional so-called eye candy, but he was never enough fortunate to have those ones show up very often much less actually be one of the elite suck ups or smart ones that came to him for help.

But that was the last he saw of the green-eyed man that day. As luck would have it, he'd relocated with the pretty, over dressed brunette to the campus bakery. Internally, Castiel grumbled to himself. He was in a monogamous relationship with another man for Christ's sake; he shouldn't have been looking so interestedly at a student, especially a student who was acting so into the pretty brunette. Castiel went up to the counter to pull out the bagel, egg, bacon, and cheddar sandwich and a large coffee. He had a meal plan from the school and the sandwich and coffee made for a meal trade that he had found saved him way more money and time in the morning since he didn't have to make any breakfast for himself.

He took the only table open, which happened to be a few away from the green-eyed man. He was able to catch an occasional glimpse of him as he fiddled with his laptop and ate his breakfast. He noticed the brunette get up after awhile, but stared at his computer because he noticed her walking towards him.

Now Castiel was by no means completely naïve, so with the way she approached and sat across from him … it was almost impossible to miss. She crossed her legs, showing a significant amount of skin – enough to almost make Castiel uncomfortable. He knew college girls well enough to know that it didn't matter if he was attractive or not (although he liked to think he was), there were always a few that just went after their professors. His eyes rose from his sandwich and up to meet her with a brow raised curiously. "Can I help you?"

"Actually, you can." Castiel watched her eyes shift over to where he knew the green-eyed man had been sitting. "Professor Novak, right?" Her light-hearted chuckle caused him to put his sandwich down so he could lean back and actually focus on her. He gently closed the lid of his laptop as he gave a nod. emObviously/em he was Professor Novak, she wasn't that dumb. After all, the girl before him had been smart enough to get into Stanford. He couldn't quite comprehend why these smart girls still sometimes felt the need to play dumb. "My friend over there and I got talking about Dante and his circles of hell and I was telling him it's an accurate depiction of Dante's time and the corruption present then," As she spoke, he felt more confused as to why she had played dumb – she even more obviously wasn't. "Now, he thinks it can't transfer to modern day. Of course, I don't mean quite so literally. Like all religious text, it was built and adapted to the time in which it was written, and I think it could be adapted for modern day. I was emhoping/em, if you don't mind, that could back me up? I mean, unless you disagree, then I'm just going to slowly back out before he catches on." Castiel cracked a small smile at this. Well, he'd been a bit rude to think that they were just dirty talking. Dante wasn't really a work he covered in his class – it was better suited for a World Literature class – but it was based upon religion and he could certainly appreciate it, though he wasn't sure he agreed with the girl entirely.

"Well, I think a good portion of it can be easily adapted to modern day. Our laws are based upon a lot of the principals found in each of Dante's circles of hell. Of course, that wasn't really their intent…" He did this a lot. He had a vast knowledge and his triple major in religious studies, statistics, and history left little to his imagination. The girl beamed and popped up to retrieve the green-eyed man and Castiel felt his stomach tense nervously. He wanted to have an intellectual conversation, but the small glimpse he'd gotten of the man's eyes before was enough to make him practically speechless, who knew what prolonged exposure could cause.

The brunette, who's name he'd never gotten, returned with the green-eyed man who was giving her a rueful smile, though rolled his eyes. He only carried a coffee cup over to the table. Castiel thought it was curious that the man didn't have a backpack, but he was far too obsessed with keeping things organized to not bring a bag around with him. He wore scruffy boots, loose jeans, a flannel shirt with white undershirt visible from the top, and the brunette had set an old leather jacket over the back of his chair, so Castiel took the assumption it was his. He raised a curious brow to that since it was August in California – it was hardly leather jacket weather. His eyes met up with the green-eyed mans', but this time both sets lingered on one another's.

"So… Professor. Feel free to completely shoot down my friend here." Castiel looked over to the girl then back to the young man, shrugging slightly. He wouldn't rather just jump into confrontation with either of them; he'd much rather just monitor a conversation than just straight into a full on debate with a blindfold on.

"Or not." The young man spoke, his voice deep, like Castiel expected, though almost forced or something. There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"I can't shut anyone down or agree with them until I know where they stand." At Castiel's response, the young man smirked in response. He went silent for a bit though, because he too was surprised by the man in front of him. He had a moderate voice that seemed to invite the green-eyed man in, and he accepted that.

"Well, I was just saying that sin is irrelevant. You know, people have their own perceptions on what qualifies as a "sin". I mean, it's all bullshit as is. I don't see there being any biblical text relating to nine circles of hell or whatever, because aren't all sins supposed to be equal? And that's more bullshit because if "God" is a forgiving God, all sins are forgiven. Hell was an idea created to scare the shit out of people so they didn't stray from doing the "right" thing." Castiel listened intently, though his eyes went between the two. The girl seemed completely uncomfortable as he spoke and Castiel took the assumption that she was incredibly religious while the green-eyed man wasn't. That was obvious by how he so blatantly spoke about heaven and hell. This wasn't really what Castiel's class was about, but he was eager to talk to the green-eyed man more, so he responded.

"I think that's a fair way of looking at it. The bible after all is a collection of stories. They chose stories that fit the time and fit the standards they wanted upheld by society. There's no doubt Christ was a great man, but they elevated him to a status of sainthood so as to use him in the image they wanted to portray to the public. All religions hold the foundation of a sort of heaven and hell, whether it be a fiery pit or a hell on Earth, or the pearly gates or seventy-two virgins." He shrugged and watched the mans smirk reappear, which caused him to look at the girl who was frowning. "Sorry, I can neither agree nor disagree with him. You both present reasonable points. I would be a poor teacher if I told you what was emright/em in terms of religious studies when religion in and of itself is founded on faith, something that is entirely personal in it's basis." She sighed and shrugged in response.

"But you can't just go around truly treating all sins as equal – that was just something said to give people hope for redemption."

"Why not? One interpretation would be that they are all equal while another would say that they aren't. Cursing and homicide might be equal to me but they might not be equal to you. Who determines and decides that? Why is one even considered bad? Is it morals or faith?" The girl looked at him seriously, and thought before responding.

"It's both." Castiel smiled lightly, and the group fell into silence. It was borderline awkward until the girl looked up at the wall where Castiel knew no clock existed, but she acted as if there was and basically jumped out of her seat. "Oh, I'm sorry, I have class in five minutes. Thanks for taking the time to talk, Professor. And I'll see you around…" she paused, looking at the man sitting next to her.

"Dean." His response was matched with a slight smile to which she didn't take much notice before heading out in quite the hurry. This Dean person turned in his chair to watch her as he left and Castiel expected him to follow behind, but he didn't. Instead he turned back to Castiel and shook his head slightly. "Sometimes it's just not worth the effort." Castiel heard his muttering through his sigh.

"You're at the wrong school if you're looking for significantly easier freshmen. Might I suggest frat row Thursday through Saturday nights?" Castiel wasn't naïve to the extent that he thought all of the "smart" students here at Stanford were pure. Of course, since he taught two freshman-level religious studies courses, an honors colloquium for the same subject, two sophomore-level statistics colloquiums, and a basic freshman composition class, so he tended to have the cream of the crop in terms of innocence, but that gradually tainted. And with his large lecture, the tainting was shown in how his attendance declined throughout the semester.

Castiel was still looking at the man called Dean, waiting for him to say something, but he just continued to sit there with a sort of smug look on his face for a while longer before finally saying something back. "What was it again? Professor…?" Castiel leaned back in his seat with a small sigh.

"Castiel Novak. And you?"

"Dean Winchester." Castiel cocked an eyebrow curiously.

"Like the rifle?"

"Like the rifle."

The pair fell into an awkward silence again. Castiel wanted to reach for what was left of his sandwich, though he had a sinking feeling that it was cold and it wouldn't be quite as delicious as it had been a few minutes prior. He didn't mean to end up staring Dean down a bit in the process, but when he focused in again, he felt uncomfortable that he'd spent so long staring at the other man. But there he was, that slight smirk still on his face. He slapped the table lightly and stood up, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "Sorry to bother you." Something told Castiel that this Dean guy wasn't really all that sorry. "I guess I'll be seeing you around then, Cas."

Castiel wanted to rebuke the mans sudden nicknaming of him, but he was strolling away before Castiel knew what to do, so he just sat there in slight shock as the man left the bakery.


	2. Bar Seat

A/N: Hello again! Sorry it took so long for me to get this first chapter up. I started writing it immediately after finishing the prologue but I ended up writing it how I had imagined I'd write the first and second chapters but together. And I was a bridesmaid in my best friends wedding, which took precedence, obviously. But anyways, I hope you guys like it since it's far more Destiel-y than originally intended. No special warnings for this chapter. Enjoy!

Beyond that odd encounter that that first morning brought, Castiel hadn't had a day unlike any other. Hell, the rest of the week had been pretty basic. The only thing that had been even remotely surprising to him was watching a kid take a tumble down some stairs because he was emstill/em drunk that Friday morning from his "Thirsty Thursday" activities the night before. At least he'd shown to class.

Last year it was different, granted everything was so new and different than he had experienced when he taught at UCLA during his graduate studies. Besides the fact that this was his first time as a full time teacher, it wasn't as if he hadn't been teaching for years by then. He was an SI his sophomore year and started TA-ing his junior year, then after graduating taught undergrads while he did his masters for religious studies and teaching. He was a bit of an overachiever, to say the least. Sure, he had never had a college summer vacation but he wouldn't have done anything with it. He didn't need to work to pay for school; scholarships covered that, so why not keep learning? He'd seen enough of the middle class working schedule with his brother Gabriel's job at some hotel restaurant. The only benefit of it to Castiel was that he could sit at the bar long before he was twenty-one and sip non-alcoholic beverages. And it was after all how he had met his now boyfriend of three years.

Ah, the boyfriend. Now his brother wasn't a fan, but it was also because it had all sort of been his fault. Castiel had known for a long time that he liked men. He couldn't quite pinpoint the time in his life that he'd admitted it, because it hadn't been a big deal for him. He'd dated a couple of girls in high school and was just over it all together too soon, then brought a boy home and Gabriel had made some comment along the lines of, "Mike really shouldn't have played dress up with you when you were little then, huh?" It was all in jest, but that was the biggest deal that had been made of it. Their oldest brother, Michael, wasn't too fond of the idea according to Gabriel, but he had never said it to Castiel's face. Then again, they had probably only been around each other a dozen times over the last decade. He was eight years older than Castiel, so he had his own life to tend to. Gabriel had taken to running the house of two when Castiel was just fourteen. The three boys had been on their own for two years at that point. Although Castiel still to this day couldn't remember him being around all that much, that was when their dad truly skipped town and since his mother had passed giving birth to him, that was it. Gabriel had once hinted that Michael resented Castiel for their mothers passing and then their father leaving, but again, he'd never said anything like that to Castiel. Though he'd hardly seen Castiel since then.

"Honey, I'm home."

Castiel's shoulders squared back tensely when he heard the voice. How long had he been sitting at the dining room table, zoned out like that? When he focused back in he noticed a beer on the far side of his laptop, where he'd started to post the syllabus for each of his classes, though he'd left a jumble of words at the end of it that didn't make all that much sense. He noticed he had fifteen emails waiting for him on his teaching email, which was either the suck up students or impatient students waiting for the syllabus to be posted because they already lost it, missed class, or whatever their reason was, he really didn't care. He had more important matters to deal with.

Before he could do anything to straighten himself up or look a little less like a teacher, the owner of the voice had hung his jacket up in the front closet and crossed the small apartment to the living/dining room where Castiel sat. "Luce." Lucifer Markus stood there before him in all of his wonderful glory. Well, maybe he wasn't all that wonderful but he certainly suited Castiel. Twenty-six-year-old Castiel Novak had met the now thirty-year-old Lucifer Markus about four years ago. Maybe it was the name that had kept him intrigued at first, or maybe it had been the fact that he was shit-face wasted, more than he had ever been in his life and had ever been since.

He was twenty-two, newly single, and feeling more than just a bit sorry for himself. Another cheater, surprise, surprise. Gabriel went around the college party scene far more than Castiel ever had and about as much as his new ex had been and had caught him all over another guy. When Castiel had confronted him about it… he had more than a few unkind words to say to Castiel about his annoying, studious ways. So feeling a little more than just pathetic, and in an effort to drown his self pity in a bottle of jack, he'd essentially found himself draped over the bar counter, unable to sit up properly by himself. Although Castiel liked to think that he was a man of morals, that day had proven that that wasn't always the case.

He couldn't quite accurately remember the night enough to retell it, but he'd heard enough from Gabriel to know he wasn't the classiest gent in the joint. Yet somehow he'd ended up waking up with the worst of hangovers the next morning, in a stranger's bed. The bed was no stranger to him anymore, nor the man who had wandered into the room wearing nothing but a towel, before handing him a glass of water and two pain killers, which Castiel only partook in after vomiting in the bathroom for a solid fifteen minutes. And this, this was what he remembered with painful clarity.

The blonde hair, wet, plastered to the mans forehead. Castiel knew he should have been more uncomfortable being in this stranger's home, but his head hurt too much to care, and since Castiel did have pajama pants on (though they weren't his own) and a nice bed to sleep off a hangover, he wasn't too picky. He'd never been so indiscrete before in his life, but it gave him a slight feeling of empowerment to know he could move on so quickly.

"It's Castiel, right?" He was shocked that the stranger knew his name, so much so that he didn't say anything for awhile and just stared at him, mouth agape. "Is that a yes?" Castiel nodded sheepishly. "You don't remember anything… do you?" He seemed like he was asking the question all together too tentatively, like he was afraid to hear the answer, but Castiel couldn't even lie to him. This man was entirely unfamiliar to him, and the situation was slowly sinking in as he pulled the sheets up to his eyes before responding.

"Not a thing. I'm terribly sorry but …" Castiel knew nothing he could say would improve the situation. He'd never been like this before. Did this make him a slut?

"Don't worry about it, kid." The man reached under the sheet to ruffle Castiel's hair with a light laugh. "I figured as much. I mean I think you downed an entire bottle of Jack and several glasses of scotch. And surprisingly an apple martini was in front of you when I showed up." Castiel kept the sheet over his face because he knew he was turning beet red. The stranger was exaggerating his alcohol intake, but after a few shots of Jack, a glass of scotch, and a martini this was sure to be the retaliation from his body. Since his brother had been his bartender, it was unlikely he'd been given much more than that, but that did raise a question. Since his embrother/em was his bartender, how had he gone home with this stranger?

"Are you ever gonna drop that sheet?" Castiel quickly shook his head then groaned, regretting it, as he was overwhelmed with a sense of nausea. The man chuckled a little and Castiel's eyes peeked out angrily. "You know, we didn't emdo/em anything." Castiel looked at him quizzically before responding in a strained voice.

"Really now? Then how come I'm wearing pants that are most definitely emnot/em mine?" he grumbled unhappily. If this man thought lying to him was acceptable because Castiel had been drunk out of his mind, he was sorely mistaken. Though he had an inclination to believe the man because with his last relationship, he'd always woken a bit sore in the morning, and unless his head just hurt emthat/em much that he didn't notice, maybe the man was being honest?

"Well, you kind of started stripping when I brought you in here." Castiel's blush didn't improve at that comment. "Okay, let me back up." The man sat crisscrossed, his back to the wall as he started his story. "I showed up at the bar late last night, admittedly looking for someone to have a good time with. And I saw this guy." He smirked a little to himself. "He has the most beautiful blue eyes, I'll tell you." He sighed a little dramatically and Castiel kept his face mostly covered since he knew the man meant him. "But, if I'm looking for a one-nighter, I do like to have consent, so, he was a bit too plastered for that. So much so that he couldn't walk alone and his brother the bartender was busy with customers, so I decided to be a nice guy and help the gorgeous guy out to his cab. But the problem was that he dragged me in the cab with him, literally." Castiel watched his hand as the man pointed at his own chest where some light scratch marks were. "Muttered something, I don't know what, but I figured eh, I'll just share the cab. But no, he can't say where he lives. So again, being the nice guy I am, I figured I'd give him my couch for the night. But no." The man was wildly smirking at Castiel, which made him practically melt; his face was so hot from embarrassment. "He's all over me once I bring him up. Literally trying to strip me, and when I wouldn't let him, he started stripping himself. Turns out he had a pretty rough day. Talked about his ex while sprawled across my bed in his underwear." Castiel's legs curled up under him in discomfort and he sighed heavily. "It was tempting, but I kept to myself. Handed him a pair of my pajama pants and convinced him that trying to get me to screw him wasn't the right choice to make while inebriated, and then he cuddled and cried on me." Castiel groaned audibly until the he felt a hand on his head. "And here he is, folks."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" Castiel said dryly. He wasn't in a trusting mood and though he wanted to trust the guy, he found the story hard to believe

"Well, it's the honest to God and Jesus and hail Mary's truth. And you passed out shortly after that. I could hardly wiggle out of your cuddle to pee much less try something. However, now…" Castiel hadn't been expecting him to try anything now. Between that and his dulled reaction time from his hangover, he could hardly fight back as the man pulled to sheet down and gave him a quick kiss. Castiel jerked back before he even realized that it was on the cheek. "Touchy, too." This was almost more embarrassing to Castiel. The man in front of him was trying to be sincere and had at least taken care of him the night before. He deserved more than Castiel admonishing him out of habit.

It took him a moment to relax back under the covers. Well what was he supposed to do now? This stranger had done him a great service in his night of self-pity-induced drunkenness, and Castiel had managed to do him emevery/em disservice in a matter of minutes.

"Hi. I'm Lucifer Markus. And you are…?" Castiel stared up at him with slightly squinted eyes and a slight head tilt. He looked at the hand extended to him, then back to his face, then back to the approaching hand that tapped his nose. "Lighten up, kid. I'm trying to make this easy on you, you know?" At that Castiel finally laughed a little, and the man, Lucifer, gave him what had to be the sweetest smile.

"Castiel Novak."

"Ah, Castiel. Pleasure to meet you." He took Castiel's hand in his own and brought it up to his lips for a gentle kiss. With another round of blushing for Castiel, he was gone.

It had taken several months of wooing on both of their parts before things were official. Castiel would've likely given in that morning in his bed, but he was too suspicious of the story and hungover to make a decision like that without confirming the bar part of the story, and after that he'd remembered how rushing into things had left him before. His headache and confusion upon meeting Lucifer was a constant reminder for those several months. His brothers dislike for the blonde man also aided to that, but that had never faded, even after a recent three-year anniversary between the two before the school year started up. Although, Gabe had admitted that he was happy if Castiel was, however he did not believe that his younger brother was truly happy. Castiel always got confused when Gabriel told him that, because he didn't see how he could be any happier. This week had been trying to change that though.

Sure, Castiel was busy with his first week with classes in session again, but last year they'd seen each other much more. Lucifer had been coming in later than usual for the past few months, but he was hoping for a promotion so Castiel understood completely. He needed to stand out if he wanted to get any sort of recognition at the competitive law firm – and they'd already had the money argument. Sure it was emStanford/em, but the locale made Lucifer's salary hike up as well, and it was still significantly higher than Castiel's. It allowed them to move there and have such a great condo so close to campus, and Castiel knew that if he was to complain, that was sure to be held over his head, and he didn't want to argue with Lucifer. Especially this week.

This week had been more than just Lucifer coming home later than usual; it had been the way he'd come home. He'd gone out every night, which wasn't the problem; it was the way he came home at least a little bit drunk every night. He'd invited Castiel out and he'd gone twice, but the fact that Lucifer liked to get a bit hands-y and flirty when inebriated (and not always with Castiel) was mildly frustrating. Then it had been the night he didn't come home until the early hours of the morning. Sometimes he had weeks like this, and Castiel would let it slide without any complaints, but something was different this time and he wasn't sure he could stay silent about it any longer.

"Cassie?" his eyes flicked up at the man standing over him, and he sighed slightly.

"Did you sleep with someone else?" Castiel hadn't been known for beating around the bush. The look on his partner's face however told him everything he needed to know. The long pause could have meant either a yes or a no, but the way he couldn't speak when he was always the one with the right words to say and the perfect way to say it. He was a lawyer. Castiel knew well enough of the man by now to know that such a pause meant he was trying how to best swing it in his favor. The man he knew and loved, had he been innocent, would have been stunned, yes, but he would've gone on to deny it. Castiel figured he would have been angry at the suggestion or at least offended or hurt, but no. The man before him was in lawyer mode and trying to figure out the situation as best he could. He was trying to figure out how to best quell Castiel, but he didn't need to.

It was best for all parties involved if Castiel simply removed himself from the situation until it could be resolved amicably, or at least without a mental breakdown on Castiel's part. He grabbed his wallet, keys, and phone from the table before grabbing his large, khaki trench coat from the hallway closet before going out into the night.

The bar scene wasn't too far away thankfully, because more than anything right now Castiel needed to be away and with a stiff drink in his hand. When he had both of those, he would have some time to straighten things out with himself. The most disconcerting part was the fact that Lucifer had just let him leave. Of course, him walking out was an inevitability and best for the both of them, but the man he knew wouldn't have let him walk out without saying a word. The man Castiel knew and loved never let him leave without saying goodbye and preferably with an earnest "I love you" latched onto it. But he had let Castiel walk out without a word, on a Friday night. After what had been confirmed, he had hoped Lucifer would at least apologize or something, but he couldn't even do that.

One fifth of whiskey to start out the night.

Castiel was drinking painfully slowly, because he wasn't aiming to get drunk, just to dull the pain and clear out an unnecessary thoughts and emotions as he sorted things out. Could he forgive? He believed in forgiveness, but the idea seemed so hard to him right now. It was unfathomable to Castiel that he would breach his trust like that, because he couldn't imagine doing the same. Maybe if things had been bad between them, but if they had he would have had the decency to end things. However, Castiel had believed things were going well between them. So well in fact that maybe, just maybe, it would be a permanent thing. Now Castiel wasn't thinking marriage or even anything official like that, but he liked the idea of growing old with one person. If a piece of paper to make it official meant it'd be official to his family and others, why not, but that had never really been in the cards for him for several reasons, the illegality of the matter being one of them.

There was a dull thud as Castiel's forehead hit the counter of the bar. He hardly registered the pain. It was infinitely better than the pain resonating in his chest right now. He wanted to think it was nothing, that what he had done would have meant nothing to him and was just something that had happened, but the fact that he hadn't said so to Castiel right away just made things worse. It had Castiel stuck in the "maybes" and "what ifs" of everything that made him want to down shots until he puked or passed out, preferably both. That was saying something because Castiel didn't particularly enjoy drinking, especially not to get drunk. But at this point it would numb the other pain he was feeling and that was all he wanted.

"Maybe you should stick to coffee." He rolled his head to the side to see who had spoken. The dull buzz made the voice sound familiar, but it wasn't until he looked at the man parked on the stool next to him that he knew who it truly was. "Hey, Cas."

"Dean." He slowly lifted his head and looked at the man next to him. He was smirking at Castiel, an eyebrow raised as his eyes turned down to look at the heap of a man draped over the bar. Castiel was sure he was certainly a sight to see. It was inevitable that he would never hear the end of this from his new student and of course it would travel to others as well. But Castiel was far too upset and buzzed right now to even care.

"You look awful." His care-free chuckle agitated Castiel more than even his audacity to so abruptly nickname him and use it emagain/em. Castiel was a professional at it's finest. Except when he wasn't at his finest, like now, draped over the bar. It was a low point, he would admit.

"Yeah, I know." He groaned heavily and sat himself up, his head lolling back as he stretched.

"I'll have a beer, and can you get some water or something to help my friend here?" Normally Cas would have objected, but he was too hazy. He rolled his head forward, slowly, and with a groan. He turned to Dean with a raised eyebrow in question.

"Got a solid fake ID I take it?" Though he hardly looked eighteen, Castiel had taken the assumption that he was still under twenty-one when he'd last spoken to the freckled man before him. He gave Cas a cheeky grin and pulled out his ID to show the bartender, who gave it a close look over before returning it and Dean slid it across the bar to Cas. Either it was real or it was an incredibly impressive fake. Castiel was too hazy to take in all the details but he gave an indignant "hmph" and slid it back to Dean.

"Don't need a fake when you're twenty-two. Costs ten bucks to replace my license and way too much for a fake anyways." His smirk was still pissing Castiel off.

"Why is a twenty-two year old in my class?" He nodded a thanks to the bartender and took the water and reached over the bar for the peanuts he'd seen stashed there. It was better than nothing.

"I took a few years off." Castiel grunted in response. "Needed to find myself." Castiel scoffed at that. "What? You callin' me a liar?" When he looked at Dean, he read his expression as both bemused and confused.

"You don't have to lose yourself in order to find yourself."

"Oh I never said I lost myself in the first place." Castiel just looked at him incredulously.

"Do you have to have a come back for everything?"

"Of course." Castiel rolled his eyes and Dean chuckled. "I guess the better question is what are you doing teaching that class?" Cas basically choked on his water. The question seemed absurd, and he'd also swallowed it down the wrong pipe and the burn went straight to his head. As he was coughing, it registered in his brain that there was a tough pat on his back and he realized Dean's sudden closeness to him. He jerked away and Dean retracted his hand and held it up in front of him. "Alright, my bad, just trying to help."

"Not necessary." Castiel hacked slightly before resuming his previous position.

"Alright, I'll remember to just let you hack out your lung next time." When Cas looked over at Dean he noticed he was a bit taken aback this time.

"Sorry." He mumbled, reaching for his water.

"Bad day I take it?"

"You have no idea."

"Oh, I don't?" Dean's voice came across as bemused. "Then why don't you tell me about it?" Cas was the one taken aback this time.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Dean was keeping up with him all together too well and it wasn't giving the hazy Castiel any chance to think things through or be prepared to respond to him. "Let me guess, girlfriend dumped you?" Castiel responded with a dark laugh.

"Close enough."

"But no cigar, hm? Alright then…" Castiel rolled his head towards Dean again, who was drinking from his beer with as thoughtful and contemplative of a face that one could have while drinking a cheap beer and at a cheaper bar. "You obviously didn't dump her, unless you're that weird person that has to booze the day off when they do the dumping, but you don't seem the type." He didn't bother responding to Dean, since he seemed to be thinking aloud more than anything else, and also, Cas didn't quite understand him. He was sitting here, talking to the buzzed Castiel for no apparent reason except to perhaps tease and prod at Cas in his weakened state. "Did she cheat?" At that, Cas turned from him all together too abruptly and focused on his water. "Ah."

"What? All out of things to say now?" He didn't want to look at Dean right now; he was on the verge of tears and had been for the past several hours, it was just threatening to boil over now that someone had actually said it out loud. Even though Dean had said the wrong gender, even though Dean knew nothing about him, and even though Lucifer had never directly said it, it all hurt the same.

"I can't say I relate, however things can always get worse." Cas slowly turned his head to Dean and just paused.

"What would you consider worse?" He was genuinely curious as to what Dean's take was on all of this, mostly because Cas was sure he had experienced what was sure to be considered worse by nature, but this betrayal outweighed it all. Maybe it was just his perspective and the fact that this had literally just become aware to him, but he didn't think so.

"Family leaving you. Blood you know and trust bailing on you." Dean's voice was somber. He stared at the various bottles lining the back wall of the bar for a moment before reaching to take another swig of his beer, but the swig turned into more as he finished the last half of the bottle and motioned to the bartender for another one. "And I don't mean them dying or anything, I mean actually leaving."

"Been there, done that." Cas mumbled.

"Ah but was it expected?" Dean questioned, his tone now curious as he looked at Castiel.

"… In a way." Cas shrugged it off.

"So this probably trumps your "been there, done that". But now imagine the family member you're closest to just bailing. emThat's/em worse. Only thing that trumps that is you yourself dying, but even with that you don't get to think about it for too long." Cas chuckled a little at that. "And hopefully you don't feel it for too long."

"True enough."

They fell into a silence for a few minutes. There was a sort of line that was going to be crossed if further questions were asked and just as unsure as Cas was about letting that line be crossed, Dean was unsure about crossing it. Dean liked this mousy professor so far, and he didn't want to push him and make him uncomfortable, however continuing to question him could easily lead to that. But saying nothing was hardly an option for him at this point. But while Dean was contemplating that, there was Cas, thinking about how the green-eyed man beside him had fallen into that sort of situation. To Cas, his reasons were obvious, despite the fact that the man before him had missed it.

"Who'd you kill to make your family just ditch you like that?" he questioned and Dean sputtered a little and smiled at him.

"No, if I'd killed someone I think my dad would still keep me around." He frowned slightly and stared straight ahead, thinking about how much detail he wanted to go into with what he was about to disclose to the acquaintance beside him. "Now ditching on the family business was like ditching him, as he saw it. Then again, he was the one who said, "If you're leaving, you better stay gone". But when he said that to my brother it lost the effect to hear it the second time." To that, Cas really didn't know what to say.

"At least he gave you a fair warning." Cas paused after he spoke, and Dean looked at him, a bit shocked, but he cracked a little smile.

"Well, and we'd been warning him for years anyways with Sammy looking at colleges and stuff. Sam's my little brother." Cas nodded silently, glad Dean had taken the initiative to answer the question Castiel was about to ask. "He's brilliant, really brilliant. He's a good kid too. But with how our dad's been… It was hard to leave but I didn't want to leave Sammy alone." Dean's expressed became tight lipped and forced as he turned back to look at the wall.

"So you chose to apply as well then? Needed to finish out schooling or did you just never go?" Dean flushed a little at that and gave a sort of nod.

"Yeah, I went local for a bit then just went to work with my dad until moving out here with Sam." Something seemed a bit fishy about that to Castiel, but he wasn't going to question it. "I wrote a really good essay." And with that Dean took another drink of his beer, despite the fact that it was empty. Cas just nodded and figured whatever it was, it probably wasn't any of his business. "You know, you never answered my question."

"What question?"

"Why you're teaching that class." Castiel paused to think things over. Why emwas/em he teaching that class? It had seemed to obvious of a thing to do for him to even bother explaining it out loud before.

"Well I majored in it. I got my masters in teaching it. And I love teaching it, so I suppose that's why." Dean grunted slightly to Cas' response. "What?"

"Just doesn't sound all that sincere to me."

"Well why do you do what emyou/em do, assbutt?" And in the instance Cas said that, two things happened. Cas had realized he was probably unfathomably in love with this man's smile, and Dean cackled wildly as he realized Castiel lacked tact and a solid sense of humor. Cas couldn't help but smile back a bit though. It wasn't the best insult he'd dolled out.

"emAssbutt/em? emReally/em?" Dean managed to choke out between chuckles, and Cas just shrugged a little in response. After awhile, his laughter died down and he was able to speak again. "Because it was the family business I was raised in, and I get good money." Cas raised an eyebrow, since that could have meant so many different things and at this point his mind was going to a career route that was less than respectable. After what his eyes had discovered upon further inspection of the freckled man beside him, nothing would really surprise him at this point. "I'm a mechanic, thanks. Although if business is slow, I might venture into the less desirable career fields…" he chuckled a little to himself and Cas returned that. "So, did you always want to teach?"

"Nah, you have emgot/em to be kidding! She did emthat/em?" Hours had passed like minutes while they were talking, and for Cas, he hadn't spent so much time chatting with someone so freely like this since when he'd met Lucifer years ago. And Dean had emnever/em met anyone like him before, as he'd said several times after he'd gotten a few more drinks in his system. Besides his brother, Dean had never really gotten close to another person, or at least told them most of the things he'd told Cas.

Dean chuckled back and responded to Cas. "Yeah, my poor brother. He was so traumatized. I mean, I probably shouldn't have dragged him to that bar for his eighteenth birthday, but it wasn't like I hadn't given him a drink before. They didn't care as long as I took care of him, and besides the stripper, everything went pretty well." Cas laughed at that, his arms folding under him as his head dropped down to the table. The world was spinning and he felt like he was falling uncontrollably, so he sat back up with a groan again. "Had a bit too much to drink, Cas?" Cas nodded, but groaned again. He hadn't eaten or had anything besides alcohol to drink in hours, so now he was sitting there, exhausted and suffering because of it. Because he wasn't much of a drinker usually, in his attempt to keep up with Dean he'd more than just drank himself under the table. The negative after effects of the alcohol had already begun to take their course.

"Come on, drunkie." Things were a bit foggy for the both of them, however, after a bit they were up and supporting each other as they walked out of the bar.

For some reason, they'd both started laughing. Neither could really explain why, but it was more than just drunk giggling, or at least that was what they both thought. Cas had unknowingly started dragging them off towards his apartment. Over the course of the few blocks, Dean had started to wonder where they were going and exactly why, but he was experienced enough of a drinker that he had some semblance of his sobriety left, and if not any sobriety, perhaps at least common sense. Well, he had enough sense to know the man he was helping support as they trudge down the street at an ungodly hour was far too intoxicated to be making any sort of serious decisions, and to his knowledge, was entirely uninterested.

After the few block trek towards the mousy professors apartment, Dean knew he needed to force the brunette up the stairs without him. The pouty Castiel though tried his hardest to object, and ended up sliding down to sit on the steps to the apartment building, leaning against the handrails, his arms outstretched towards Dean a little more than hopelessly, his fingers reaching and eventually clinging onto the fabric of his worn leather jacket.

"Please. I don't want to." A frown settled on Dean's face as he heard the desperation in Castiel's voice. "Please." His grip on Dean's arm was surprisingly strong considering the fact that his body lay limply on the stairs, his head lolled back against the rails, but there was his hand, gripping onto Dean's jacket like his life depended on it.

Dean crouched over Castiel, scooping his arms under each of his to lift up the dead weight. Castiel relinquished his grip on the taller mans arm and instead settled for laying his arms over Dean's shoulders, his head lazily following them, cocooning itself in the crook of his neck. Despite the fact that he smelled of alcohol more predominantly than anything else, there was a scent beneath it that was more enticing to Castiel, however he was too tired to put a name to it.

"C'mon buddy, we need to get you up those steps and get you home." Castiel didn't respond much to that in terms of moving, so Dean took the initiative and wrapped his arms around Cas, squeezing and lifting him so he could force him up the steps. Dean gritted his teeth together as he did so, the dead weight making this a bit more difficult than anticipated. Castiel belched over his shoulder and groaned occasionally, but most loudly when Dean released him at the top. Dean smiled at him; despite the fact that he was now absolutely exhausted and about positive that there was no way Cas would even fathom this in the morning much less actually care about any of this in that moment. After all, he couldn't even walk himself up the stairs.

Cas abruptly started digging through Dean's jacket pockets, his weight heavy against Dean as he pushed him in the process. Dean felt his back hit against the wall, though he let the man continue to search him for whatever he was so intent on finding. He pulled out Dean's phone and started typing in it and Dean just gave him a cheeky grin.

"You have to call tomorrow." Was all Castiel said before he leaned himself against Dean, and much to the freckled man's surprise, he leaned in to kiss Dean. Dean began to reciprocate it, a hand traveling up from his side and behind Cas' neck before he remembered that the man kissing him was first off, a man, and secondly, he was a man taken by a emwoman/em, at least as far as he was concerned. He'd called his girl Luce all night, and despite the fact that they had cheated, Dean could tell well enough that he wasn't giving up just yet, no matter how hurt he was.

So despite the fact that the warm lips against his were more than welcomed and inviting, Dean pushed him away gently by the shoulders. Castiel's lips were in a pout as he pulled away and he looked at Dean, first confused, then alarmed. Cas quickly shoved Dean's phone back at him and then proceeded to dig in his pockets until he pulled out his keys and his wallet. He shoved a twenty at Dean, and then stared at him. Pointing at the bill, he spoke. "That's for a cab. Not for… that." He flushed up, embarrassed, as he fiddled with his keys, pausing when they actually got in the door. He was quickly sobered as he remembered that Lucifer would be inside, waiting for him likely. He would want to talk it out or he'd be passed out drunk. Cas silently prayed for the latter, because he was now riddled with guilt over his sudden betrayal.

Dean reached forward and lightly grabbed Castiel's arm. "It'll be fine. Don't worry about it." Castiel forced a small smile back at Dean before he entered the building. The thud of the door was painful to him, He looked back to see Dean through the glass stairs, turning and heading down the steps. With a heavy sigh, he closed the main door over the glass door and clicked the locks into place.

Upon further entry into the apartment, he saw a lump of a figure that he presumed was his boyfriend, under a lumpy blanket on the couch. Castiel gave a slightly indignant "hmph" as he went off to the bedroom. He couldn't really be sure if he'd wake to an equally hungover Luce or not, but he was glad he'd had the sense to sleep on the couch rather than try to sleep on the bed. Either way, there was no way Cas was sharing a bed with him tonight. Once in his bedroom, he struggled to undress himself, but eventually accomplished it, and with his dirty clothes in a heap on the ground and his pajama pants pulled out of the hamper and pulled back up on his form, he was ready for bed. Almost as soon as he'd pulled himself under the covers, he fell asleep.

It was another half hour before Dean made it to his apartment. He strode in immediately, and after locking the doors behind him, heard some chatter in the living room. Upon further inspection he found the television on, displaying a movie he'd never seen before. What was more interesting was his brother, passed out dead asleep on the cough, with a girl. Dean smiled at this, remembering vaguely how Sam had said he'd met a girl at orientation. He didn't know if the brunette on top of him was that girl, since last thing he'd known, he had yet to see her again, but he was happy that Sam was adjusting well.

He reached down to yank on a chunk of Sam's hair. The younger boy groaned and his eyes struggled to open. He tilted his head back to see what had woken him, and slowly smiled when he saw Dean. "Mm... Hey Dean." His voice was hoarse and lower than Dean was used to hearing. But he supposed that was college. The eighteen year old was still growing like a weed, hair included.

"Hey Sammy. Is this the girl you were talking about?" Sam put his head back down and looked at the sleeping female.

"Oh… No. Haven't seen her since orientation. This is just a girl from my pre-law class. Madison." He shrugged lightly. "You were out late. Meet some people? Did you have fun?" Dean just smirked at his brother

"I guess you could say that." He knew Sam was concerned that this transition would be difficult for Dean, and since he'd left because of Sam, of course Sam had to think anything bad that Dean encountered was all his fault. As Dean saw it, he'd made the decision to leave with Sam on his own. He'd made his bed, and he was going to have to sleep in it. And anyways, the change of scenery was nice.

"By the way, I emsaw/em you in my religious studies class this week. You don't need to follow me around, I'm not a kid anymore."

"Yeah you are, Sammy."

"Well, whatever, either way, you're not a student there, you shouldn't be going to a class at a school where you emare not/em a student." Dean shrugged at him slightly.

"Eh, it's not like they check." Sam rolled his eyes at him and yawned slightly.

"Well, do what you want, but don't follow me around. I'm fine."

Dean reached forward and ruffled up his younger brother's hair and gave him a smile. "Sure you are. Get some sleep, Sammy." He gave his younger brother's head a slight shove before turning on his heel and heading for his bed.


	3. Apologies

A/N: Look at me, posting in two weeks. *u* I hope to keep up this pace, but between my grandfather passing a few days ago (RIP sweet man, and walk slow so your beautiful wife doesn't feel like she needs to catch up), GISHWHES, moving out this week, marching band, and school, I'm not making any promises, but I'll certainly try.

Big shoutout to my amazing beta, a href=" /users/casass/pseuds/casass"casass./a She's a blessing and a beautiful writer, so be sure to check out her stuff. *u*

Enjoy!

Pain. More than anything else, there was just undeniable pain as Castiel woke up. The sun he saw through the curtains was evidence that he'd at least gotten some solid hours of sleep under his belt, however he still felt absolutely beat. Somehow in his sleep he'd splayed himself out, covering the majority of the queen bed, his sheets crammed between his legs, but only covering one, while the other stretched out on top of it. Normally, he found himself confined to a small portion of the bed, in a position similar to how he'd fallen asleep. He couldn't remember exactly how he'd fallen asleep, but he was sure it wasn't like this. Cas was definitely a sleep cuddler, as had always reigned true with his boyfriend or whatever he was after the events that had unfolded the night before. However last night, he'd merely crammed a pillow under his leg and had another between his arms.

After snuggling his face against the sweet-smelling pillow, he briefly smelled the familiar lavender scent from his own shampoo before the churning became too much.

He clumsily got to his feet and busted ass across the room to the en suite bathroom. It was a bit shambled, like the rest of their place, but it was home. And right now, the porcelain throne was his best friend. Of course the painful churning and need to vomit died down once he was leaned against the cold toilet seat but the second he tried to leave it, the nausea came back full force. Out of exhaustion from a few back and forth trips from his bed to the toilet, he just gave up and crammed himself between the wall and the toilet, head drooping forward with exhaustion.

Between his dozing, somehow his nausea had finally hit its peak point and he released the bile from his stomach.

Cas was tentative as he got to his feet, though he was hurried in cleaning his face in the sink. The nausea was mostly gone at this point, but he didn't want to encourage it to return. The hangover-induced headache was proving to be enough to deal with; he didn't need to spend his Saturday throwing up as well. Nevertheless, his hands were on either side of the sink, arms extended, bracing himself over the sink, his head bent down towards it limply as he contemplated going back to sleep to try and just will the hangover away.

Obviously that wasn't in the cards.

"Rough night?"

He didn't have to turn to know who spoke from the doorway to the bathroom, but he looked nevertheless, curious how the man would look after a night of self-loathing. Cas could only hope that he looked worse than Cas felt, and Lucifer didn't disappoint. His hair was disheveled in every way possible, as though it'd been pulled at repeatedly, and Cas knew all too well what that actually looked like from more favorable encounters. The bags and half-lidded look to him told him Lucifer emhad/em had a self-pity night, and that only made Cas feel slightly better.

"Here," his voice was as tentative as Castiel's movements, though his speedy placement of the painkillers and glass of water on the sink was evidence that he'd been up for awhile and waiting for Cas.

"Thanks." Cas mumbled as he took the two pills in a blatant hope for relief, though the water practically burned as it headed towards his stomach. The emptiness resonated though him; however, not in a good way. He coughed and it rapidly turned into a dry heave as he hacked over the sink, trying to hold the two pills and water down.

He'd been too focused on his own hacking to notice how close Lucifer had gotten. How he had one hand instinctively over Castiel's on the sink, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of Castiel's hand, and Lucifer's other hand had found it's way to Cas' mid back, where it was giving gentle, yet forceful, pats to help him out. The way his body curved over Cas was all too familiar and, had he not been in pain, he would've thought to pull away. But it was nice. There was a four yearlong familiarity to it and it was all too easy to fall back into his arms. Castiel leaned back instinctively, but thought better of it, and sidestepped away from him and stared at him blankly, eyes half lidded in his tired state.

The awkwardness settled in at that, and the silence was unbearable. However, Castiel had nothing to say yet, at the same time had emeverything/em to say. He wanted to scream at him, shout out how he'd betrayed his trust, and cry over the wasted time that hadn't really been wasted, because he loved him and thought that Lucifer had loved him in return, but instead he'd stabbed him in the back just as others had before. No words came out though, because he knew his silence was painful enough for the blonde. The shame within the silence was evident; then again, Cas couldn't really conceal how hurt he was, so he wouldn't be surprised if his face read the pain that panged through every fiber of his being.

"I made some breakfast. Hangover deluxe. Pancakes with a peanut butter spread, a big glass of water, and I put Star Wars in. The oldest one." Cas continued to stare at him, unyielding. "I figure you can eat before yelling at me."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't yell at you right now." Cas' voice was stern, and hoarse from the dry heaving. "I should kick you out. I owe you emnothing/em."

"But I owe you everything. And I am begging here, Cassie." His eyes narrowed further at the nickname. It had been first anointed to him by his brother Gabriel years back, and for some reason Lucifer had picked it up as well. More teasingly than lovingly at first, but now the nickname was taunting him. It tried to lull him into the false sense of security he'd grown so accustomed to. "Please, just sit down and eat. I'll explain whatever you want to know, I'll do whatever you want me to do, including leaving." Cas swallowed thickly. He had a feeling this was another one of his tricks with his charm – he'd feed him and charm him back into his life with peanut butter pancakes and his scruffy hair that Castiel just wanted to reach out and pat down out of habit.

"Fine." More than anything, Castiel knew he needed the food and he needed answers. For now, Lucifer was promising both.

There was something about the carbs and protein and Star Wars that was always soothing to Cas in his hungover state. The carbs and protein had logical explanations, as did the water, but the Star Wars was just a personal preference. Beyond horror movies, his nerdy obsessions were the best kind of comfort Cas could have. In lieu of a social life in college, he'd holed up in his room studying or watching BBC television shows, or Star Trek and the like. Some past almost-loves had called it endearing or cute, but Lucifer had always called him for what he was, a nerd. Sure, he indulged him from time to time, but Cas had noticed the stack of VHS sitting near the player and recognized all of his favorites.

Well, this was certainly a start.

Cas had cuddled up on the couch under his favorite blanket while he ate, and his head lolled tiredly as he finished, watching the scenes unfold on the television. He hardly noticed Lucifer pick up the plate from his nap, but he certainly noticed when Lucifer took a seat on the ottoman, and he blocked the view of the television. Annoyed, Cas paused the movie and looked at the man before him, focusing on his fumbling hands rather than his face.

"So…"

"So." Cas blankly recalled the precision with which Dean had replied to him the night before (albeit, he remembered it only vaguely), and decided to channel that sort of response in dealing with Lucifer this morning. He was still contemplating what to do, but he didn't have time for him to beat around the bush.

"I'm not going to say it was an accident, because we both know that there's really no accidents." Cas looked at the unmoving characters on the screen, refusing to acknowledge Lucifer while he spoke. "Yes, I was drinking, and that didn't help, but I regretted it immediately, Cas –"

"Don't call me that." Cas was surprised at his own snap, but the nickname wasn't one he was used to hearing. And after the pleasantly good night he'd had at the bar, he didn't want the sweet sounding nickname to be soiled by the tension now in their apartment. "Please, don't call me that, Luke." Lucifer's expression sobered at the more casual and platonic of Castiel's nicknames for him.

"Call me whatever you want, Castiel. I simply beg that you listen. Please." Castiel merely paused. It took him awhile before he finally broke eye contact with Lucifer and focused back at the unmoving figures on the television, nodding faintly. He heard Lucifer sigh and saw him scoot the ottoman and himself slightly closer, though to the side, so Castiel could continue with his distraction. Cas was respectful enough to not start the movie back up, however, he couldn't look at him all the same.

"It's not something to forgive, I know that. I know how I hurt you and I feel it too. I'm just concerned that things haven't been going all that well for us." Cas frowned though he said nothing. "All you do is prep for your classes, and you just had to take on emmore/em this year. And we go out and you just come back home. You just left without a word."

"Because you were getting plastered, and I needed sleep. I know it's okay for you to stay up until god knows when and still go to work hungover as long as you win your case and keep doing your job, but I can't. And it's hard to watch you hanging over some other guy –"

"That means nothing. You know that." Cas snapped his head at Lucifer and raised a brow as if to say "really?", but he couldn't verbalize that without yelling it. "All I can think about is you, I love you, but I've found it hard to believe lately that you return the feeling –"

"So you're pinning this all on me?" Castiel's legs pulled up under him as he sat up straight, about to really pick a fight with the man before him, though relaxing as he saw Lucifer's head give a nervous shake.

"Of course not, sweetheart …" The term of endearment panged more than it should of. Cas knew he was already on the road to forgiveness, even though he didn't want to. But he had an unyielding faith in this man for whatever reason. "This is my fault entirely. But if you give me another chance, I swear to you, it'll never happen again. I was a fool. I forgot that I'm hopelessly in love with a nerdy professor who loves his job maybe a little too much." His hand outstretched to Cas, landing on his cheek, causing Cas to meet his eyes again. "Honest to God and Jesus and Hail Mary's or whatever." Cas cracked the faintest of smiles at that. "I was scared to admit that I thought there was problems, but I swear, this was a complete mistake. I'm only human, Castiel."

Castiel was staring in his eyes when his own expression deadpanned. The blue of his eyes weren't quite right. Neither was the hair color, though the short scruff and lighter highlights of it were right, as he recalled the night before. Flashes shot before his eyes as he remembered his only sobering moment of the night before, when he'd carelessly dug through Dean's pockets and put his phone number in it, he'd embegged/em him to call him tomorrow, and to not make him go inside, and then there was the kicker. He'd emkissed/em Dean. Now Cas couldn't quite be sure if Dean had returned the kiss or had stood there stunned through the whole thing, but he did know that Dean had pushed him away in the end. Everything else was foggy, but that was abundantly clear.

"Cassie?" Lucifer's voice brought him out of his stupor, and Cas blinked rapidly, trying to focus in on Lucifer's features and the thumb absently running on his cheek.

"Alright." Cas said suddenly, nodding his head. Lucifer was a bit taken aback, as if he'd expected Cas to kick him out, and hell, Cas had expected he would kick him out. But how hypocritical would that be? At the slightest hint of betrayal by his partner he'd run out to drink and ended up kissing a guy who was a stranger for all intensive purposes. Sure, Cas was wasted out of his mind, but he knew what he was doing. He'd wanted to kiss Dean, but in his now sobered state, he knew that much was a mistake. He didn't even know if Dean was interested in him like that, and now he certainly didn't want to know, because he decided then that in exchange for keeping this to himself, he could handle the pain of what Lucifer had done.

"Really?" Cas couldn't even regret the decision when he saw the face before him light up as he realized he was forgiven. Cas smiled and tilted his head into the hand on his cheek and nodded again.

Before he even really got a chance to enjoy the sweet touch and calmness of the moment, Lucifer practically pounced on him, leaning in and engulfing his mouth in his own. Cas was stunned for a moment, and after pushing Dean out of his mind, he returned the kiss, putting his arms over Lucifer's shoulders before he leaned the both of them back on the couch, just kissing.

Cas could feel Luce smiling in the kiss, and it made him really feel as though he'd made the right decision. His stomach twisted with butterflies as Lucifer pressed down over him, continually crashing their lips together.

"Do you want breakfast or not, jerk?" Sam was speaking purposefully and painfully loud because he knew just what kind of condition Dean would be waking up to.

Dean rolled his head to look at his alarm clock and groaned. It was only nine in the morning. "Son of a bitch…" He murmured before burying his face back into his pillow.

"Good morning to you, too." Sam's smirk was practically audible in his greeting. "I've got pancakes in the works if you get up in the next five minutes. No way I'm serving you breakfast in bed, princess." He laughed faintly, though Dean found it hard to take his words too seriously when he was so quiet in closing the door.

Dean rolled over almost immediately after the door closed, a small groan slipping past his lips as he did so. More than the hangover, he was just exhausted. He had certainly had worse hangovers in his life, and this one paled in comparison to most. Sam had been telling Dean for months now that he was just drinking so much to become immune to hangovers, and Dean was starting to believe him. Nevertheless, he enjoyed having the freedom to drink like a desperate teenager and wake up just slightly off kilter. And his brother had just enough sympathy to cook him breakfast.

After fighting with his sheets for a minute, Dean was able to safely climb out of bed. They'd been wound tightly around him somehow, and as a result were now completely pulled out and crumpled on the bed. With a huff, Dean straightened them out a bit before heading to the kitchen. He didn't like to leave his room in such a state of disarray, but he also recognized how little he cared in moments like these.

"You'd make a good housewife, Sammy." Dean commented as he passed the couch that was stacked with neatly folded blankets. The trash Dean had glimpsed from the night before was long gone and he never would have guessed that anyone had been over if he hadn't seen the small female asleep on his brother the night before.

"I could say the same for you, jerk."

"Bitch." Dean wandered into the kitchen with a bright smirk directed at his brother, but it drooped when he noticed the pretty female was still at their apartment. She kind of gave him a bemused sort of look and she extended her hand out to him.

"I'm Madison. Sam's friend." He took her hand in a quick shake and smiled lightly back at her.

"Dean. The brother." He was sure Sam had mentioned him – if not, there were a few pictures of them around the apartment. All of the pictures were within the last few months too so, unless she'd not noticed the half a dozen frames or Sam had neglected to mention him, he figured she already knew.

Dean suddenly took note of his half-nakedness and slipped past the female towards the laundry, where he grabbed a clean shirt from the dryer. As he pulled a worn gray Henley over his head, he heard Sam call out to him. "How many do you want?"

"Whatever." Dean called back. He wasn't picky when it came to food, especially when he didn't have to make it. He walked back out to the kitchen to find Sam suppressing a smirk as he held out a plate to him. Dean took the plate with a frown. "Really?" On the plate was one small glob of a pancake. Sam snickered, amused, before dropping a giant pancake on top of it. "That's more like it, smartass…" He spread butter onto the plate-sized pancake then poured syrup over it before digging in, hardly caring for manners despite the fact that Sam's very pretty em"friend"/em was seated next to him at the small table. And Sam gave Dean his signature bitch face when he brought pancakes over for Madeline, or whatever her name was. Dean was a bit too groggy to care at this point.

Sam settled down shortly before Dean finished up. While he was absently chatting about some teacher they called Zach, Dean used his fork to stab a pancake on Sam's plate and lift it over to his own. The brunette female snickered slightly before Sam turned to Dean and shrugged. "I emknew/em you'd do that – and close your mouth for crying out loud." Dean stuck out his tongue in response.

"Well aren't you a smarty pants." While in the midst of finishing his stolen pancake, Dean got up and unceremoniously scarfed the rest of it down before setting his plate in the sink. "You know, I am the older brother, Sammy. Not you." He dug through the fridge until he found a bottle of water that he begrudgingly opened, with the sole intent on downing it with as many Tylenol as he knew he could take. He had places to go and people to see, and the annoying hangover digging at the back of his skull was not welcomed.

"You say that, and then you're the one coming in after three in the morning after doing God knows what." Sam's voice came off as amused, despite the fact that his expression showed blatant disapproval. "Where were you anyways?" Dean noted the hint of concern in his voice, so he chose to humor him.

"Met someone at a bar and got to talking." Flashes of bright blue reminded him of the night before. He pulled out his phone and dug through the contacts with a small smile when he noticed Cas' number in there. Sure, he'd spelled his name "Castiewl", but Dean got the point.

"And?" His eyes rose from the phone and he noticed both Sam and his friend staring at him. Sam was borderline bitch-facing him, but the girl was interested and amused, despite the fact that Sam had basically begun to ignore her while he probed at Dean.

"And I helped them get home and then came home myself. Nothing special."

"Really?"

"Really, Sammy."

"Then why are you looking at your phone like that?" Dean snapped back to reality at that and stared at Sam who was sporting his "oh really now?" face that Dean had grown all together too used to over the years. "What's her name?"

Dean's ears started to heat up at that. He could feel the heat as it rose up the back of his neck and wrapped around his ears, but it didn't dare go further. Dean had his fair share of indiscriminate fucks, of course, but the simple fact was that he hadn't emdone/em anything with Cas.

Ignoring the kiss, of course.

Upon remembering the kiss, the blush spread a little further, and he turned away, downing the rest of his water bottle to cool off as best he could. He'd nearly forgotten that but how could he? Cas had shoved him against a rough brick wall and pressed those perfect lips against his, and that wasn't something he was about to forget.

"Aw, c'mon Dean." The girl cooed from the other side of the table, her fingers wrapped around a coffee mug. Sam's smirk was growing and he looked like he was about to probe further before Dean just gave in.

"Cas." The redness at his ears flared upon him saying the name out loud. It wasn't as if Dean had never made out with a guy before, but he wasn't as experienced in that department, and he sure as hell wasn't comfortable with talking to Sam about it. Sam knew Dean was an equal opportunist, but he hardly paid much attention to Dean's sexual escapades.

"That's a cute nickname. Short for Cassandra or something?" The female piqued back up with a smile, and Dean gave a half-shrug, half-nod sort of gesture in response. Hey, if they wanted to think Cas was a girl, why not let them? After all, Cas had a girlfriend and Dean was hardly looking for something serious. It was unlikely that he would ever talk about Cas again.

"So are you going to say anything else or do I just need to call her myself?" Dean quickly snapped his phone shut at Sam's quip and shot him a quick glare, to which Sam merely laughed.

"How about you talk to your friend instead of badgering me over nothing? Or should I ask what the two of you were doing on emmy/em couch last night?" Dean questioned with a quirk of his eyebrow. Sam flushed up, and the girl giggled.

"Don't worry, even if I offered, I don't think Sam would've gone for it. It's Madison, by the way." Dean smirked lightly, though he felt a little bad since he had forgotten her name; however, he didn't care for too long. Instead, he focused on Sam, who was flushing brightly in embarrassment.

"Oh I know, virginal Sammy. Don't know where he got that from, honestly."

"Shut the hell up!" Sam snapped quickly at Dean and Dean just chuckled in response, at which Madison also joined in on. Sam was about to get up and walk out, but before he got the chance, Dean pushed down on his shoulders to keep him there.

"Stay and chat, I'll get out of your hair little brother." He ruffled Sam's hair lovingly, but Sam flattened it down before Dean had even left the room. On his way out, he heard Madison.

"I think it's endearing, really. Seriously Sam, don't be embarrassed…"

Dean had been keeping to himself for a couple hours before reemerging to find the apartment quiet. "Sammy?" he called out warily, a laundry basket full of clothes shoved under his arm at his side as he walked past the living room. Sam waved at him with a pencil rather than his actual hand. Dean stared at his seemingly uncomfortable position on the floor, books strewn about, covered in stray papers, with Sam and his laptop in the center of the fold.

"Seriously Sam? You've been offered sex and you turn it down for homework?" Sam scoffed slightly, but didn't respond initially, his fingers busy typing away at the bulky laptop on the coffee table. Dean chuckled as he went off to start a load of laundry, tossing all of their colored clothes together before he even heard Sam calling back to him.

"Sex isn't emeverything/em, you know." Dean chortled and shut the washer before going back into the living room.

"Sounds like something a virgin would say." Dean grinned as he saw Sam's ears flare red before he snapped back to his homework. Dean watched as he roughly shoved his glasses up his nose and pulled a book up onto his lap. "Chill out, I'm just messing with you." He clapped Sam on the shoulder and he grunted in response.

"I know."

At that, Dean turned on the television and they fell into a comfortable silence. It wasn't long though before Dean had his phone pulled out and he was running his finger tentatively over the call button as he looked at Cas' contact in his phone.

"Just call her already." Dean snapped his eyes to Sam who was leaning his head back against the couch while staring between Dean and his phone.

"I don't know about that, Sammy." Dean said cautiously, sighing and running his thumb over the phone absently before flipping it closed.

"Why not? It's not like you to just let a girl get away." Sam laughed before shuffling his books around so he could cross his legs and turn slightly towards Dean. "Well? Are you gonna tell me about her or not?" Dean chuckled and his head fell back limply against the pillow behind him. "Did she blow you off?"

"Well, Sammy, I wouldn't let a simple blow leave me all dewy-eyed." Dean smirked wildly and he peeked down at his brother, who was giving him a bitch face again.

"You know that's not what I meant." Dean chuckled at that. "Jesus Christ Dean, just tell me about her."

"Cas is seeing someone. So, it's a moot point." Sam fell quiet at that.

"Then why'd you get her number?" Sam had a right to question that, since Dean was well aware that he normally only got a number if it lead to something more than just a chat.

"Cas kind of just took my phone and put it in…" Dean's thumb ran over the screen on the phone a little absently. "Cas was also pretty drunk, so, I don't think it was intentional." Sam stared up at the ceiling, his face twisted in thought before he pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. Dean watched him warily, because he knew these as telltale signs that Sam was about to give Dean a full-on analysis of the situation.

"Well you always say that when someone's drunk, it's just an extension of their personality. That's why people spill their dirty secrets when they're drunk. So, maybe she's not happy with the relationship but isn't about to cheat or anything, so…" He screwed up his face again and Dean just smiled at him. "Either way, you might as well give Cas a call. She gave you her number, and you're interested. I mean, at this point, you're at a no. It doesn't get any worse than that." Dean looked at him dumbfounded for a moment and Sam just shrugged.

"Geez Sammy, when did ya get so insightful?" Sam shrugged and Dean reached forward to ruffle his hair again with a soft smile.

"And when did you become so sappy?" At his comment, Dean's smile dropped and he gave a short tug of Sam's hair. Sam groaned in response and Dean's smile found its way back, albeit minimally.

"Just get your homework done."

Dean got up and wandered around the house, shucking on his jacket and boots before grabbing his keys.

"Where are you going? Aren't you going to call Cas?" Sam piped up, staring at Dean as he headed towards the door.

"I'm gonna call Cas." Dean smiled lightly at his brother and Sam just shrugged him off as he turned the doorknob and headed out the door.

"Luke, don't look so smug, shit still has to hit the fan." Cas grumbled lightly to himself. He'd scrunched himself up on the loveseat, his head on the seat against one of the chair's arms, and the curve of his backside hitting against the other. Like tentacles, his limbs splayed over the couch and his head lulled over to look at his lap blankly, rather than the movie. He'd seen the Star Wars movies too many times to count or care, and couldn't be bothered to watch it at this point.

He pulled the long sleeves of Lucifer's button-up over his hands and covered his mouth with a sigh.

"emLuke, I am your father./em" Cas wheezed out, but it didn't have the effect it normally did. Usually Lucifer was there with him, curled up on the too-small couch, mocking Vadar's voice to a tee, and Cas paled in comparison. The reminder just caused him to rub his temples and sigh.

Lucifer had coerced him into make-up sex (however it didn't take all that much coercion on his part, Cas just liked to think of it that way while he was pouting), then after less than ample cuddling time, Lucifer had announced that he needed to go back to the office for some homicide case. Hearing the word "homicide" come out of his mouth didn't even break the mood for Castiel. However Lucifer yanking out from under his arms, causing Cas to teeter off the bed and roll off entirely, did.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I would've told you yesterday, but…" His voice trailed off and that was where Cas had stopped paying attention. He'd stayed on the floor until Lucifer left and even long after. Only worming around when his back started to ache, he pulled on a pair of his own boxer-briefs and then Lucifer's discarded shirt. Now, he wasn't all that much smaller than his boyfriend, especially not in height, but he was small enough for the shirt to be baggy on his frame, the unrolled sleeves drooping far past his hands.

After straightening up the bed, he'd made his way out to the couch and that was where he had been since.

Cas was in the midst of stretching out his back to see how far up he could stretch his legs, and back, into the air before they fell over him or something popped uncomfortably when his phone buzzed angrily with "More Than A Feeling" rumbling out of it shortly after. His legs collapsed over his head and the arm of the chair in his surprise, since it wasn't often that he got phone calls.

He pushed up with his arms, effectively tumbling over the arm of the couch and onto the floor before crawling over to the coffee table and grabbing his phone. The number wasn't one he recognized, and he half-considered letting it go to voicemail before he felt his stomach drop uncomfortably. He vaguely recalled searching Dean's pockets for his phone, but couldn't quite recall if he'd actually given him his number.

"Hello?" He answered the phone in the end, albeit nervously. Cas hadn't meant to kiss him, especially under such circumstances and he didn't want Dean to have the wrong impression. However, it seemed like there was really only one impression he could give after last night.

The reply on the phone was delayed, as if the caller hadn't expected Castiel to answer or as if they were thinking of something to say.

"Well, I'm calling."

He recognized the voice as Dean's right off the bat. Nervousness tickled every inch of his body as he paused. Was this wrong? He couldn't really be sure. It wasn't like he was talking to Dean with the intention of cheating on Lucifer. Sure, he was attracted to Dean, but that didn't mean he was going to act on it.

Well, at least he wasn't going to act on it again.

"Dean." His tone was a bit more desperate than he'd hoped for. "So it seems." He swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, Cas." There was an airy laugh over the line and another pause. "This emis/em Cas, right?" At that, Cas couldn't help but snicker a little.

"Yeah, it is."

"Thank God, because that whole 'I'm calling' thing would have just been awkward." Cas chewed on his bottom lip and chuckled with Dean over the line until silence fell again. "You alright? I mean, you must've had one hell of a hangover this morning." Cas shrugged before shaking his head as he reminded himself that this was a phone call. His nervous edge hadn't gone away just yet.

"Yeah, I did. I'm better now, though." Another silence followed.

"And … emyou're/em alright?" His tone made Castiel frown, because he knew Dean was asking about Lucifer and that situation. Sure, he was happy things were working out, but he was still a little bitter about Lucifer heading out like that.

"Yeah. We talked it over this morning."

"Well, that's good."

Wow, that conversation had gone south altogether too quickly. Castiel gave a forced laugh at an attempt to change the flow.

"You sound skeptical."

"Well, once a cheater, always a cheater in my book. But that's just me." Cas frowned at his response.

"Luce isn't going to do it again." His tone was firmer than he expected, but he was serious. He trusted Lucifer that much to give him a second chance.

"Alright Cas, sorry." He heard the impatient click of Dean's tongue over the phone and annoyance evaporated the rest of his nervous edge.

"What do you want, Dean?"

"Well, a couple of things." There was an airy laugh over the line. "You made me promise to call you, so that's what I'm doing. But I also wanted to chat."

"About?" Cas' eyebrows rose curiously. He stared blankly at the rolling credits on the television while he waited for a response from Dean.

"Honestly, I don't care." Cas' brow crinkled in confusion at that. He hated technology for this reason alone. It was so hard to read people over the phone like this. Of course everyone else had their cell phones glued to their ears, but he still remembered growing up without them and he'd always hated landlines. Making a phone portable didn't make it any better for him. "I mean, not that I emdon't care/em about talking to you, it's just, I don't care what we talk about." His nervous laugh echoed over the line again. "I just wanted to talk to you, see how you were doing…" His voice trailed off and Cas smiled a bit. It was cute. And he only thought of it as cute in the most platonic way possible, of course.

"I'm good, Dean. Really." Cas smiled into the phone. "And you?"

"Me? I'm fine."

"You drank a lot last night, too."

"Yeah, but I don't think I have the pleasure of getting hungover anymore. And my baby brother was kind enough to wake me up bright and early, so I don't have the option anyways." Castiel blinked quickly for a moment as he listened to Dean speak, recognizing the way Dean paced himself and paused to breathe throughout his rushed speech.

"Are you walking?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"You talk fast and you're compensating by pausing to breathe.."

"You noticed that?" Dean sounded thoroughly bemused over the line but, to Castiel, noticing little things was almost second nature now.

"Why are you out walking and talking to me?" Castiel questioned back, confused yet amused by their whole conversation.

"Well, uh…" Dean paused and Castiel could tell he'd stopped walking. "I don't know. I just went for a walk and I thought about last night and found your number in my phone and gave you a call. Though, quick question… There's not a 'w' in your name, right?"

"No. Why would there be?" All this talk about going out for a walk lured Cas off the floor. He made his way to the bedroom, searching for a pair of pants so he could go check the mail and take out the trash like a good tenant.

"Well, it was just the way you spelled your name in my phone. Just Cas would have been easier." His chuckle over the line was almost taunting to Castiel. He scoffed as he pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder while he used both hands to shimmy into his jeans, only responding once he was working on zipping up.

"Hey, assbutt, I was drunk." Dean sputtered and laughed over the line.

"emAssbutt?/em Wow. You've got quite the affinity for insults, huh?"

Cas smiled back, but only slightly. He'd admit that wasn't his best one. "Whatever, Dean." He reached into his and Lucifer's closet for a belt, pulling it through the loops and scrunched up his sleeves over his elbows before grabbing the phone again with one hand. "Where are you walking?" The question came out before Cas even had a chance to stop himself. He felt his cheeks heat up a little as he walked towards the front door.

He twisted the door handle just as Dean was responding, "Well, I'm out by the school. It's completely deserted on the weekend. I like it better that way."

Something was wrong about how he said that, not like he'd lied or anything, but in the way it sounded. As he swung the door in and stepped outside, he figured out why.

There he was, across the street, his back to Castiel as he spoke again into the phone. "Somehow through all that moving around when I was younger, we only kept to smaller towns. I guess I never grew out of that…"

"Dean?" At this point, Cas had dropped his phone to his side and gone down the steps. Dean turned rather suddenly, still holding the phone to his ear. A blush slowly crept across his face as he looked at Cas.

In response to the silence, Cas pulled his phone from his face and deliberately ended the call, before quirking a brow in question at Dean as he put his phone in his pocket and crossed his arms.

"Well, this is … awkward." Dean's nervous chuckle from across the street momentarily filled the silence, albeit barely. A car rolled down the street between the two and Cas took that moment to turn away and walk the half block towards the apartment's set of mailboxes.

"Hey, Cas, wait!" Dean quickened his pace on the other side of the street to catch up with him.

Cas could only ignore him until he stopped at the mailbox, twisting the combination in his to get the mail within. He heard Dean running across the street long before Dean spoke. "Hold up, Cas."

Dean's hand landed on Cas shoulder, and Cas rolled his shoulder away from it, walking back towards his place, pointing his mail at Dean as he spoke. "Really? You want me to stop and talk to the creepy guy outside my house?" Cas gave a half-assed laugh and rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I'm not emcreepy/em, alright?" Cas stopped and Dean nearly ran into him at the suddenness of it. He mumbled a "sorry" in apology to Cas, who was staring him down quizzically. He wasn't mad by any means, and how could he be? Dean had taken care of him last night. Castiel just didn't quite know how to feel about having the green-eyed student from his Religious Studies lecture standing outside his place.

"Look, I have to work this afternoon, so I figured I'd head out and get some lunch, and I just wanted to make sure you're alright." Dean's hands were held up in front of him as he was on the defensive. "You were completely wasted last night and begging me to stay, after all." Cas flushed a little and Dean smiled in response.

"That doesn't mean you can just show up."

"I wasn't going to come up or anything unless you wanted me to. I was just trying to be a good friend, Cas." Cas tensed a little in response. "Not that we're friends or anything, I was just concerned, alright?" He noticed the frown line forming between Dean's eyebrows and the sincerity in his voice, but also noticed the slight twinge of annoyance.

"I'm sorry, but it was kind of creepy." Dean chuckled darkly and shrugged in response. "But thanks." Cas gave him a thin-lipped smile and a nod. At that, Dean's tension broke and he beamed back at Cas, that wild and bright smile he'd seen back in the campus coffee shop. It was infectious.

"I didn't mean to be creepy, I really emwas/em heading towards this part of town."

"Sure you were." Cas started to walk again, but this time it was slower, intentionally letting Dean keep up with him.

"Really, I was." His toothy grin was still there and Cas just gave him a sort of incredulous look. "You don't believe me."

"Not really."

"Then come with me." Cas noticed a faint tinge of red gracing Dean's face, though didn't question it. It was an odd request, so he wasn't sure if he could blame Dean.

"What?" His response came out a little choked. Was Dean suggesting…?

"I mean, grab lunch with me. If you're not doing anything else." He shrugged a bit, hands digging deep in his pockets a little awkwardly. "I wasn't just pitying the intensely sad, broken up drunk who latched onto me at the bar last night." He smiled at Cas again and Cas swore he could practically feel the heat radiating from it.

"I'm sorry." Cas frowned slightly. "I didn't mean to drunkenly latch onto you or –"

"I was just being sarcastic, Cas. I don't mind. Really. I had fun." He still had that sort of happy look about him as he teetered back and forth on his feet. "So, grab some pizza with me. You can tell me what happened after I left." Cas gave him a wary, confused look. "Or not, whatever works." He still had that brilliant smile.

"Alright." Dean's ears perked up at Cas' response, and it was probably easily one of the cutest things Cas had ever seen. "I owe you, anyways, for dealing with me last night." He shrugged, and Dean just laughed a little.

"You sure do, Casti-ewl." Cas quirked a brow at Dean as he started to walk off, pausing only momentarily before following after him, mail still in hand.

"Excuse me?" He questioned when he caught up with Dean, who had stopped just before turning the corner. "What did you call me?" Dean was staring at his phone with a wild sort of smirk that he held until Cas grabbed his wrist, turning it so he could see the phone and there, plastered to the screen as evidence of last night's drunken escapades was his number and what appeared to be his name. He flushed lightly as he noticed the small spelling error. The subsequent kiss from the night before flashed through his mind and he nervously released Dean's wrist. Dean was slow to retract and he had an expression Cas couldn't quite read, however it was quickly replaced with a thin-lipped smile.

"I know, I know, you were drunk. It just made me laugh when I saw it this morning." After he spoke, he gestured down the street with his hand to a nearby parking lot that was empty besides one black car. Castiel had to fight his jaw from falling open. It was absolutely emstunning/em. He would proudly admit that he had a thing for classic cars.

"Is that emyours/em?" Dean beamed at Cas' incredulous expression, and nodded.

"Yeah, that's my baby." His grin was all teeth and Cas wanted to smile in return, but his expression blanked when he made a realization.

"Wait, I though you walked out here?" Cas raised a curious eyebrow and he saw the tips of Dean's ears go red.

"Well, I walked from my car, if that counts for anything…" His laughter was strained and he'd adverted his eyes from Cas. "I don't live close enough to just walk all the way over here. But you seemed to be in pretty rough shape last night and I wanted to be here if you needed somebody, you know?" The redness had begun to creep up his neck too at this point, and it just made Cas smile.

"Well, thanks for that." Although he was still slightly turned from Cas, Dean's eyes were now glued to him and a smile slowly snuck back onto his face.

"I'll bring her around while you go get some shoes on." He nodded his head towards the ground and Castiel looked down towards his feet. Now it was his turn to get embarrassed. He hadn't really planned on going anywhere, so he didn't think to slip on any shoes.

He nearly jumped when Dean clapped him on the shoulder. Cas' head popped back up to look at Dean, who still held that wild, impossible smile.

"Alright?" Cas smiled back, with that kind of smile that he felt all the way up to his eyes and back down to his toes. He nodded to Dean.

"Alright."


End file.
